Sleight of Hand
by Cathook
Summary: A mission gone south takes an unexpected turn, and Daniel has to draw on a different skill set than usual to save the lives at stake.
1. Sleight of Hand - Chapter 1

**Summary:** A mission gone south takes an unexpected turn, and Daniel has to draw on a different skill set than usual to save the lives at stake.

**Timeline & spoilers: **Somewhere in season one. I don't think there are any spoilers.

**A/N:** This story was written on request of one of my readers, _hotshow_. I hope you like it!

Don't forget to leave a **review**.

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><p><strong>Sleight of Hand<strong>

A pale sun climbed slowly from the alien horizon. There was a chill in the air and it pulled tendrils of mist from the high grass around the Stargate, like ghostly fingers stretching towards the grayblue sky. In reality it wasn't a particularly spectacular sight. It was far from the most beautiful sunrise Colonel Jack O'Neill had ever seen. However, the fact that it was not Earth's old familiar Sol he was watching inch its way up the sky always did its part to make the view a little more special. He allowed himself another moment before he turned his attention to his team, noting how their first actions on this unfamiliar ground spoke clearly of their respective characters.

Daniel Jackson – his best friend and PhD times three – stood a few steps away, watching the sunrise as well. His eyes shone with childlike awe and curiosity, his entire being visibly itching to explore a fresh new world. Jack smiled. _Like a kid in a candy store._

His eyes shifted to his second in command, Captain Samantha Carter. She was hunched over the MALP, the reconnaissance vehicle that had been sent before them through the Stargate. No doubt she was checking and memorizing data that may become useful, or – _God forbid_ – dangerous to them later. She was a scientist, just like Daniel, but the two were in reality quite different. An important part of her was also a soldier, a fact that had made it easier for Jack to accept and respect her.

Speaking of soldiers, if there ever was one to embody the word it was the fourth member of the team. Teal'c stood statue-still atop the Stargate platform, scanning the distant forest edge with his eagle sharp dark eyes. In many ways the jaffa looked deceptively human, but it didn't take anyone very long to realize that he was not. For one thing, he had the patience of a glacier. He could stand as still as he did now, on silent sentry watch, seemingly forever. Yet, when necessary he could whirl into action with the speed and destructive force of a tornado. He was a man Jack was more than glad to have covering his six.

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><p>It was Teal'c's unwavering gaze that first spotted the natives. With a low voice he called Jack to join him on the 'gate platform and pointed towards the forest. At first Jack saw nothing; after all, the forest itself was to him little more than a line of darker green beyond the lighter field of grass. Regardless he would never admit to envying Teal'c's superior sight. <em>It's probably some positive side effect of having a vicious snake curled up in your stomach. Not worth it. <em>

"I count five," Jack said when he could make out the figures approaching through the grass.

Teal'c bowed his head in agreement. He was a man of few words, but Jack had found that only adding to his respect for him. It made people listen better when he did speak.

Jack hopped down from the platform and tapped Daniel on the shoulder, alerting him to the welcoming committee. The archeologist/linguist/anthropologist was the team's diplomat and it was usually best to leave the first off-world contact to him. Jack knew by experience that he at least was not the man for it himself.

Daniel sprang into action as if Jack's tap had pushed his 'on'-button. At a half jog he hurried to meet the five men who were just stepping into the little clearing in front of the 'gate. He was all smiles and his hands were spread in a peaceful greeting.

"Hello," he began and proceeded to rattle into a speech that was quickly becoming tradition on these outings. "My name is Daniel Jackson. This is Colonel Jack O'Neill, Captain Samantha Carter and Teal'c. We are peaceful explorers from a planet called Earth. It is very nice to meet you."

Silence fell as the natives considered his words, and the two groups took the time to take a closer look at each other. Jack's outwardly careless gaze danced over the natives, registering every detail to assess whether they were a threat. They were all dressed in plain wool pants and shirts. Each of them wore some kind of shawl, a piece of plaid fabric thrown over the left shoulder. They carried large broadswords in their belts but had so far made no move to draw them. Jack adjusted the MP5 on his shoulder and kept it hanging casually. He was ready, but not about to make the first hostile move.

Eventually one of the men stepped forward. He had no distinguishing marks, but from his initiative Jack assumed he must be the leader of the group.

"Greetings," the man said. "I am Aifric of the Coimeádaí clan. Have you come to meet with our Ionadaí?"

Daniel shot a sidewise glance at Jack, asking permission, and Jack answered with a shrug. _Go ahead_.

Aifric led the way across the field and into the forest, which proved to be little more than a thin line of trees. Beyond lay a small city, nestled in a valley between high cliff walls. A large stone keep dominated the scene, perched on a hill like a mother hen watching over the settlement that fanned out around it. Halfway between the tree line and the keep rose a lone tower, like a huge milestone hewn from tanned sandstone.

A gentle slope led them down between the first buildings. From within the city the keep's towering presence was even clearer. All the houses were low and no matter how narrow the streets the keep was always there at the edge of the peripheral field. It gave Jack an itching feeling at the back of his head, like someone was watching him from just out of sight.

They stopped in front of a building barely a block into the city. It was no different from the surrounding houses, except for a large banner that hung over the door. There was a silver silhouette of a bird on it, flying over a black background.

"You may wait in here," said Aifric as he showed them inside. "I will tell Ionadaí you have come." He gave a curt bow and disappeared out the door, leaving SG-1 alone in a big torch lit room.

They settled in for the wait, each in their own way. Teal'c simply steadied himself into that stance he could hold for as long as necessary, while Sam sat herself down on one of the low benches arranged in a circle around the room. Daniel discovered that the walls were covered in bright tapestries that drew him in like a moth to a flame. He would not be getting bored any time soon.

Jack didn't like waiting around on missions. It made him restless and, according to Daniel, fiddly. He sat down beside Sam, but his eyes were soon drawn by a waist high pillar at the centre of the room. Atop it lay a velvety black cushion, and on top of that a ball barely the size of his fist. It was smoothly polished and glistened in the flickering light like a big stone marble.

He stood up and walked over to take a closer look. The ball was actually quite plain, like a polished rock, but strangely mesmerizing all the same. He reached out his hand. From over by the wall he heard Daniel's voice.

"Don't touch that, Jack."

He ignored it, and picked up the ball. It was heavier than he had expected. High density, Sam would probably say, and he would pretend to not understand. He lobbed the little object into the air and caught it with his other hand. Daniel spoke again, this time closer and quite a bit more irritated.

"Jack! Put it down!"

He ignored him again and let the ball fly back to his right hand.

"Jack…!" Daniel's voice was even closer now, and taking on a different tone that Jack couldn't classify just yet. He tried to ignore him and launched the ball into the air again.

Daniel's hand shot into his view and grabbed it.

"Jack!"

This time his name came hissed between clenched teeth, right into his ear. Jack turned to face his insistent friend and belatedly realized – he really shouldn't have touched the ball. In the open door behind Daniel stood Aifric. His eyes were fixed on Jack and they burned with scorching anger. He stepped inside and half a dozen men filed in after him to surround SG-1. Their swords were drawn and they looked more than ready to use them at the first sign of opposition.

"You have sullied the orb of Morrigan," Aifric said. "You will die for this crime. Bring them!"

The swordsmen moved closer. The flaming torches glistened on their bared steel and Jack saw Teal'c adjust the grip on his staff. His own hands sought the trigger on the rifle. He was not going to let his team get executed for a silly little rock.

"Wait!"

Daniel jumped out in front of him with his hands spread open. Jack wasn't entirely sure if his exclamation was directed to him or the enemies. _Probably both. _He curbed his trigger happy finger and waited to see what his friend would do next. Maybe he could get them out of this without a fight.

"It was a mistake. Jack didn't know he wasn't allowed to touch it. If we could just speak to your superior I am sure we can work this out."

Daniel pleaded with earnesty, taking step by step closer to Aifric as he spoke. Jack held his breath when he moved well within the range of the sharp swords. Unarmed as he was he would have no chance if the men decided to strike.

Aifric's eyes rested on Daniel, unforgiving. The tension in Jack's limbs felt like tightly wound wires on the verge of bursting if the man didn't give a response soon. The gaze passed to Jack, and as a remission to Daniel he tried to look apologetic. Aifric made a grimace of reluctant agreement.

"Very well", he said. "You will not be executed until the Ionadaí has heard you. But you must surrender your weapons and peacefully come with me."

He made a gesture to his men, who advanced on them again. If they were going to fight their way out, it was now or never. Jack glanced at his teammates, considering the split second decision. Sam made a barely noticeable gesture to her weapon, the question in her eyes. She would follow his lead whatever he chose, and judging by Teal'c's stance he would do the same. Daniel on the other hand… Their eyes met, and Daniel's gaze held a silent plea. He really thought this could still be cleared up.

_I sure hope so, _Jack thought and forced his muscles to relax. With a nod to Sam and Teal'c to do the same, he unsnapped his weapon and handed it over to the nearest swordsman.

As soon as they were unarmed Aifric's men became less cautious. They grabbed the team's backpacks and started searching them for other weapons and equipment. One man reached for Daniel's glasses but he managed to hold on to them by handing over his wristwatch instead. It took all of Jack's self control to not intervene and lay the man out flat.

At last Aifric gave a command and they were ushered out of the building. The street outside was busy now, full of people out on their afternoon errands, and their guards hurried to enclose them in a close formation. There was no escape now even if they had wanted it.

Jack felt the gazes of the crowd as it parted before Aifric like the sea before Moses. He heard whispers of chock and speculation.

"Who are they?"  
>"Where did they come from?"<br>"What did they do?"

The murmur of news spreading went like a wildfire before them through the streets and soon there was a crowd gathering just to see them go by.

At first Jack thought they would be taken to the keep, but it soon became clear they were headed to the tall sandstone tower they'd seen from the tree line. They moved quickly despite the crowds and soon they stepped out onto a big plaza. At the centre, deliberately far from the other buildings, rose the tower.

Jack heard a gasp beside him and he guessed Daniel's eyes were probably glowing with excitement on a goa'uld possession level. He didn't blame him. The tower was a remarkable sight. It was a smooth stone cylinder that reached at least ten stories into the sky. Built from big blocks of suntanned sandstone it was almost brightly yellow in contrast to the gray of the surrounding buildings. The walls seemed perfectly featureless. There was no door as far as Jack could see and no windows either. _But what's the point of a tower without a way in?_

He planted an elbow in Daniel's ribs and hissed,

"What is it?"


	2. Sleight of Hand - Chapter 2

It never seized to amaze Daniel how Jack could one moment ridicule his scientific expertise, only to turn around and rely on it to explain things when he found something he didn't understand. _I suppose I should be glad he wants to understand at least._ For once though, he had no answer to give the colonel. He didn't understand the structure that stood before them anymore than Jack did, and he was just about to say so when a strange noise filled the air.

It seemed to originate from the tower, but it wasn't a noise any well built tower should make – the grinding rumble of stone scraping against stone. The sound came from the top of the tower and rushed down towards them like an approaching rockslide. Instinctively Daniel took a step back, bumping into the swordsman standing behind him. A hard nock sent him forwards again, grabbing onto Jack to steady himself.

Now the cause of the noise came into view. Two staircases shot out from the tower; step by step erupting along the outside of the walls like a double helix avalanche in a race towards the ground. It was an awe-inspiring construction; a truly marvelous architectural feat. Daniel only wished he had been in a better situation to admire it.

The stairs reached the ground and Aifric began the climb. SG-1 were ushered up after him, one by one with guards strategically placed in-between them. There was no railing, and the steps were only two or three feet wide, forcing them to walk in one file. Daniel kept his eyes fixed on the next step, always the next step, and away from the gut wrenching drop so close by his side. _What kind of crazy people put the stairs on the _outside_ of a tower?! And with no railing!_

Aifric called a halt about halfway up. At first Daniel couldn't understand why, but then the sound of stone on stone reached his ears anew. A slab of the tanned rock shook free from the wall and rose up to reveal a dark opening. The door that had appeared was set straight into the wall mid-stair. There was no landing or other markings as far as he could see. No telling if or where there might be another waiting to open.

"The woman and the dark one," Aifric commanded and Sam and Teal'c were roughly shoved inside. With another grinding rumble the door resealed and they continued the climb.

This time they only went about a quarter of a lap around the tower before they stopped again. Another door opened, equally unpredictable as the first, and a moment later Daniel and Jack found themselves inside as the slab of stone ground to a close behind their backs. Hidden locks clicked into place and unequivocally sealed them in.

The room they had been left in was roughly triangular and could go by no other term than a cell. It was lit by a dim light, enough to see by, but there was no visible light source. The slightly curved outer wall seemed completely smooth now that the door was closed, just like the two angular walls pointing towards the centre of the tower. Just where they should have met at a point there was a small convex curve. Daniel guessed it was a pillar to strengthen the construction of the high building. The cell was completely empty, if one didn't count the layers of dust and dirt covering every inch of the floor.

Jack promptly plunked himself down with his back against the wall and tilted the brim of his cap down. Less than a minute later his breathing had taken the steady rhythm of sleep. It always amazed Daniel that he could do that, sleep anywhere and anytime.

"Take the chance at rest when you get it", the colonel had said once when he asked him about it. _Suppose it's some kind of military thing._ Unable to do the same Daniel made himself busy by investigating every inch of their housing.

The cell held some intriguing clues to the architecture of the tower, but in the end there was nothing to really capture his attention. The hours snailed by. He tried to take Jack's advice and sleep but he wasn't tired enough, or perhaps he just couldn't relax. After all, they had been imprisoned for a crime punishable by death, their execution only stayed off by their request to speak with the man in charge.

In time the anxiety had Daniel restlessly fiddling with anything and everything he could get his hands on. There wasn't much. Most of their things had been stripped from them. He felt through his vest pockets again – for the fourth time if he wasn't mistaken. One pocket held an empty power bar wrapper. The bar itself had gone down not long ago. Jack had woken long enough to split it with him and then, since nothing had changed, he had gone back to slumbering against the wall. Another pocket held a button that had fallen off Daniel's jacket just after they arrived on the planet, and a few lengths of nylon rope that he had no idea whatsoever where it had come from. Finally there was his notebook, with a few pages of observations he'd made on the planet and its inhabitants so far. The pen had been taken from him, so dotting down the latest events would have to wait until they got out. _If we get out…_

He returned the pad to its protective plastic wrap and stuffed it back in the pocket. The power bar wrapper went away too, for no particular reason except that one never knew what might become useful. The button danced between his knuckles, back and forth, before he plopped it down in the pocket as well. Someone would surely reattach it when they got back home. Things like that always did seem to happen on their own at Stargate Command. _Wouldn't surprise me if there's a 'BDU-mender' position. Very important cog of the machinery. _He stifled a giggle, wondering briefly if the boredom of the cell was making him crazy already. _I wonder how long we've been in here…_ He threw a reflexive glance to his wrist but at the same time he remembered that he had given up his watch to the swordsman back in the waiting room.

The only thing left was the rope. Absentmindedly he let it slide between his fingers, twisting and untwisting. As if on their own accord his fingers found their way to movements he had thought long forgotten, making a knot and sliding it back and forth along the rope.

"How'd you do that?"

Jack's voice broke into his daze, startling him. He hadn't even known the colonel was awake.

"Do what?" he asked.

"That thing with the rope!"

Daniel followed Jack's indication to his hands. Taking in the rope and the position of his fingers, he quickly understood. With a dismissive shrug he replied.

"It's just a magic trick. I used to do them a lot when I was younger. For a while I even considered making it a career, but then… I decided on archaeology."

Jack scooted across the dirty floor and sat down next to him.

"Do it again," he asked.

Daniel regarded him quizzically, but he couldn't detect any sarcasm so he obliged the request. He ran the rope through his fingers a couple of times, trying to draw from his memory how to do the trick. It wasn't as easy as he had thought, especially considering he had just done it without even thinking. Trying to remember only seemed to make it worse, too. He paused, closed his eyes and cleared his mind. Led by the muscle memory buried in his subconscious his hands moved confidently again.

He did the trick a couple of times, with Jack watching intently like a mesmerized child. Daniel savored the moment, although a bit bewildered. It wasn't often one could catch the colonel so interested in anything, and in Daniel's experience it was an occasion on the edge of nonexistence for him to be the object of said interest.

When he finally let his hands rest, Jack looked up to meet his eyes. The look on his face echoed of the way he used to refer to Daniel – a kid in a candy store. _Is that what I look like when I find some really interesting ancient artifacts?_ Daniel quelled the giggle trying to force its way up his throat.

"You wanna see another one?" he asked, digging the loose button out of his pocket.

"Sure," Jack said, the eager curiosity sparkling as bright in his voice as on his face. This time Daniel couldn't help but smile.

With a flourish he presented the button.

"Now, usually I would do this with a coin," he explained, "but I think this will do. See here. I put the button in this hand, and then…" He made a theatrical movement with his hands, and opened them for Jack to see that the button had disappeared. After waiting a moment for effect he leaned forward and produced the button from behind his friend's ear. His reward was another childlike smile of excitement and a pair of brown eyes that wordlessly begged him to do it again. Momentarily he pondered whether the colonel might be the one gone crazy from boredom, but since doing parlor tricks was at least better than staring at the walls he let his hands begin again with their deceptive dance.

Eventually Daniel exhausted his available performance repertoire of tricks, and they both retreaded to their corners of the room again. With no furniture available the intersecting walls was the only thing that could come close to providing a remotely comfortable position. Jack quickly dozed off and Daniel tried his best to follow suit.


	3. Sleight of Hand - Chapter 3

At some point Daniel must have fallen asleep. He knew that because he woke up with a fluffy feeling of drowsiness in his head. It was impossible to know for how long he'd slept. It could have been minutes, but just as well hours. The indefinable dim light that filled the room had been unwavering and unchanging even though the day had undoubtedly faded into night outside. It made time difficult, near impossible, to tell. Daniel lifted his spectacles and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a yawn, fighting to focus through the bleariness of having been woken up. He knew something had woken him – _but what?_

His eyes panned the room. Nothing had changed. The light was just as dim as before and he could see the still form of the slumbering colonel across the room. Jack had made no movement yet, but Daniel's instincts told him that if something had woken him Jack would be awake too.

The sound – it was a sound – that had woken him returned; the click, click of a lock. In the time it took Daniel to identify it Jack went from prone on the floor to pouncing and ready to strike.

_Figured you weren't sleeping_, Daniel thought and got to his feet as well. His thoughts took off at speed to whirl in his head. _Who is it? How long has it been since they locked us in? Are we being rescued? Are they going to let us see their leader or were they serious with that talk about execution?_ His muscles tensed at the thought, and he could only imagine Jack was thinking and feeling the same.

Jack was, but there was no doubt in his mind that the natives intended to execute them. He'd wanted to give Daniel's peaceful solution a chance, but after being locked up in here for an indefinably long time he was coming to doubt it would pan out that way. Staring at the door beginning to crack open he only wondered how hard they would have to fight to get out and return to Earth.

As slab of rock rose the bright light of a low morning sun edged its way inside, underlining just how dim the cell had really been as it blinded their eyes. Instinctively Jack reached for his sunglasses, only to remember that they had been one of the many casualties of the monumental fiasco of their arrival day on the planet. He'd never admit it out loud, but in that moment he wished he had listened to Daniel – _just this once_. Squinting against the now open door, he prepared to attack as soon as he could see whoever entered clear enough.

The opening was eclipsed by two dark silhouettes stepping in side by side. Jack recognized the shapes of their armor – _Jaffa _ – and sprang into action. The first one fell on his face as Jack swept his feet from under him with a low round kick, and then proceeded to slam his body into the other. The force sent the unprepared jaffa staggering further into the cell. Jack aimed a kick at the fallen one, but missed as he rolled over and bounced to his feet. Eager not to let him gather his wits Jack hit him with a rugby-tackle, right in the symbiote pouch.

_X marks the spot_. Jack giggled to himself as the man bended over in a motion that led the thoughts to a kick in the nuts. Assured that he would be busy for a while collecting himself, Jack spun around to check on Daniel. To his pleasant surprise his geeky friend was holding his own against the jaffa who had come stumbling in his direction. He was weaving and punching just like Jack had taught him in the boxing ring.

A movement at the door caught Jack's attention and he swiveled around to face it. Two more jaffa were hurrying in to assist their comrades, and a step behind… The backlight made details difficult to distinguish. It casted shadows that obscured the features of the person stepping in. Jack saw the pride in the posture, though – an arrogance of nobility that he recognized. A black robe, or dress, enveloped the figure, flaring out towards the floor. A rogue sunbeam glinted off a silvery surface and jumped to drown into what looked like black feathers.

The figure carried an imposing presence, and adding in the jaffa Jack drew the obvious conclusion. _A Goa'uld._ Fueled by fear and hatred he launched himself against the new arrivals. His fist impacted with a nose and he felt it crack, but he had no time to check out the damage he'd done. The second jaffa was already grabbing for him, and even though he twisted to get away a steely grip locked hard around his wrist. Using the hold as a fixed point he threw his legs up and around the jaffa's neck. The change in centre of gravity tipped them both to the ground, and Jack seized the opportunity to tighten his grip into a choke hold.

Hands pulled at him from behind – _the one with a broken nose_ – and in the corner of his eye the one he had tackled was getting to his feet. Daniel and his opponent were out of sight, but the scuffle of feet told Jack his friend had still not been caught. He swung back with his arm and managed to get it free. He aimed a punch at the man struggling between his legs and… hesitated.

A soft hand touched his fist; a gentle feathery touch so alien to the situation that it stilled the adrenaline in his veins. A sudden silence seemed to have engulfed the room and time itself seemed to slow down. The hand traced his arm to the jaffa's grip on his shoulder. The touch must have had the same effect on him as it had on Jack, because he let go and retreated towards the door.

A face appeared in Jack's view; a woman – _the goa'uld._ But she wasn't acting like any goa'uld he'd ever met. Another gentle hand – _her hand_ – touched his leg. Brightgreen eyes – _utterly human_ – met his. Their honest plea struck his heart and persuaded him to let the now slightly blue jaffa go.

They both silently scrambled to their feet and withdrew; the jaffa to join his comrades by the door and Jack to stand beside Daniel at the back of the room. A glance, quick but thorough, told him his friend was unharmed. A sigh of relief escaped him, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Perplexed by the turn of events he turned to face the woman standing alone at the centre of the room.

"Our apologies," she said. Her voice was bright with youth and, most importantly, free of the metallic tinge of goa'uld possession. Her accent was rather Irish actually, and genuinely apologetic, adding another perplexing detail onto the pile of conundrums mounting higher and higher in Jack's mind.

She turned to Daniel and addressed him with contrite reverence. "My name is Muadnath. I am Ionadaí Morrigan. I fear we have had a terrible misunderstanding, and I humbly beg your forgiveness, Draoídan."

"Well, that depends," Jack jumped in before Daniel could reply. "Are you going to release us and let us go home?"

She smiled, but at the same time there was a hint of regret on her face.

"We will. You are free to be on your way, but…" She turned to Daniel again. "Before you leave I… _we_ have favor to ask of you."

"A favor?" This time it was Daniel who spoke and his voice was laced with curiosity. _Oh, here we go_, Jack thought to himself, even though he wondered what she could possibly ask of them.

"Yes, a favor, but perhaps you would rather hear me out in more comfortable accommodations. Come, a meal has already been prepared for you, and we have yet to free your friends."

She shooed the jaffa out the door. They looked more than a little embarrassed and shot odd looks in Daniel's direction as they filed out onto the narrow staircase.

The barely risen sun seemed even brighter outside than it had through the door. Jack and Daniel both stood blinking for while before they were confident they could walk down the steps without falling off. Maudnath waited patiently until they were ready before she led the way down.


	4. Sleight of Hand - Chapter 4

On the way down they stopped to collect Sam and Teal'c's from their cell. Daniel hurried to step ahead of Maudnath and her jaffa into the cell to make sure they didn't get themselves another undeserved thrashing. A suppressed 'humph' from behind his back told him Jack was making a disappointed grimace at his concern. Most likely he didn't think the thrashing had been undeserved.

"It's okay," he called as he stepped in into the cell. "It's me, Daniel. Relax, they're releasing us. It was all a big misunderstanding, they say."

His friends relaxed their battle ready stances and at his beckoning they followed him out and down the stairs to the base of the tower.

Muadnath led them swiftly through the city streets. There were hardly any people out in the early hour and nobody seemed to take any notice of them as they made their way to the keep towering on its hill. Through the gates and across a small court, they came into the entry hall. Maudnath paused and sent the jaffa away to clean themselves up.

"Would you care for food or freshening up first?" she asked SG-1.

The team needed no more than a glance to agree.

"Food!" Jack declared.

Maudnath bowed her head and turned right down a wide corridor lit by flaming torches. A pair of doors, made of wood polished mirror blank, opened into a grand dining hall. A hundred and a hundred more candles burned along the walls, and in the great chandelier hovering above the table that dominated the room.

The smell drifting to greet them was the smell of opulence and riches. Roasted meats, baked pies, spices of seemingly every conceivable combination beckoned to them, their smells blending together to elicit the only one possible response from Jack. Lustfully he uttered, "Food", tilting his head backwards and drooling in his best imitation of Homer Simpson. A giggle escaped Sam as she hurried after him to take a seat at the laden table. Teal'c followed with a bit more dignity while Daniel hung back to give their host a 'thank you' before he swiftly joined them.

Muadnath trailed after and sat down beside him. An amused smile played on her lips as she watched them dig in. Daniel was so hungry it took him a while to discover her sitting there.

"Oh, hi," he mumbled with his mouth half full, swallowing quickly and almost choking.

She giggled.

"Calm yourself, Draoídan. Eat. We have time."

He swallowed again, giving her a sheepish look.

"Why don't you tell me about that favor you wanted to ask us?".

"As you wish. Our clan has an enemy," she began. "A grave threat. In the eastern isles there is a clan, the Gallchobhair, led by a powerful draíodóir who calls himself Rídraíodóir. It has been many decades since the lands of Éirinn saw power like his, and many generations since one appeared in our own clan. The Gallchobhair have always been peaceful, our friends, but under the rule of Rídraíodóir they have become drunk with the desire of power. Rídraíodóir will not be satisfied with ruling just one clan. He wants the dominion of all of Éirinn and to this end he will stop at nothing. I fear he has forgotten, or abandoned, our Lady who has given him his power."

Tears filled her eyes and for a moment she seemed to hover at the brink of crying. Daniel reached out a hand and tentatively touched her shoulder.

"I understand that your situation is difficult, but what is it you want us to do?"

Anger flickered over her face, sweeping away the tears.

"In an attempt to destroy me, to force my hand into capitulation, Rídraíodóir has stolen Coimeádaí's most precious treasure. He taunts me as he keeps it away from me, calling out anyone who dare challenge him to take it back. But we have no one who could stand against him! Until now." Her face brightened, and she looked deep and beseechingly into his eyes. "You could challenge him, Draoídan. You could fight him in his own field and show him not to misuse Morrigan's gifts. You alone can do this for me. This is the favor I ask: that you defeat Rídraíodóir and retrieve my treasure. Will you do this for me?"

"I…I…" Daniel glanced at Jack, who between bites gave him a sharp look. _Don't._

"What is this treasure that he's stolen?" he asked, trying to draw more information out before he committed himself and his team to anything. "Why would you give up everything for it, and surrender because he's taken it?"

Tears reappeared in Maudnath's eyes, but she bit together and forced them back. She couldn't look him in the eyes however, and when she answered her voice trembled with emotion.

"She is my sister. Her name is Radha, for she is a beauty beyond comparison. Rídraíodóir threatens to kill her if we continue to resist him."

The mention of a human life at stake melted away Daniel's apprehension like an icicle in the sun. He felt Jack's eyes on him, seeking his gaze to halt him from the path his heart was already leading him down. He ignored it.

"What can we do? How do we challenge Rídraíodóir? How can we defeat him when all your warriors cannot?"

Maudnath shook her head with an odd smile.

"Not all of you. You."

Her hand gently touched his chest, sending a strange lightning of emotion through his body.

"Me? What could _I _do?"

"Our hidden eyes saw you. We saw your power. As a draíodóir yourself you can challenge Rídraíodóir to a duel not of arms, but of wit and magic. And if he loses such a fight he is done for as ruler."

"Draíodóir…" Daniel tasted the word; let it run through the linguistic library that was his brain until he found its meaning. "Oh! Ehm… I…"

He looked to Jack for support again, unsure if he should tell her the truth or not, but now it was the colonel who was ignoring him. The message was clear – _You wouldn't listen before, now you're on your own. _He turned back to Muadnath and saw her eyes glisten with barely held back tears. That sealed the deal.

"I'm sure we can help somehow," he said and heard Jack sigh. The colonel's eyes bored into him with renewed force, the intensity of the glare turning all the way up to supernova when he continued "We will find a way to rescue your sister, I promise."

They finished their meal and afterwards Maudnath showed them to a suite of chambers on the next floor. As soon as the door closed behind her, Jack spun around and pinned Daniel to the wall with a stare.

"What have I said about making promises on behalf of the team?! Do you have any idea what you've gotten us into?!

"But…J…Jack!" Daniel barely stuttered in the face of an anger that would had many a seasoned soldier quivering in his boots. "There are lives at stake here. They have taken her sister hostage and are threatening to kill her if they don't surrender. We have an opportunity to solve this without any bloodshed. We could rescue the girl _and_ secure their clan from further attack. Jack, we should do this! It is the right thing to do!"

Jack backed away and started pacing the floor. He wasn't exactly surprised at the lack of effect his outburst had had on his friend, but that didn't make it any less annoying. He stopped and glared at Daniel again.

"Well, we bloody well have to do it now, don't we," he said. "You've gone and promised we will, and who knows what they'll do if we back out. For all we know the help we can give them is the only reason we aren't lining up for the chopping block this very moment."

Daniel didn't respond. He just made a grimace on the verge of a smirk that said Jack had just made his point for him. Jack did his best to ignore it and went on.

"How you expect to do it, though, is beyond me. You're not exactly the epitome of a warrior, you know, Daniel. And I heard when she said that no one around here even dares to take on this Rider-dude."

The smirk on Daniel's lips turned to full on smile at the concern his friend his badly by anger and insult. He stepped closer to Jack and softened his voice to explain.

"It won't come down to strength or battle skills, even though I have both more than I ever had nowadays thanks to you. Their enemy isn't called Rider, it's Rídraíodóir. I think the language is derived from an old Irish dialect. It fits with everything else I've observed about the culture here…" He halted himself. This was not a good time for an anthropology lecture – if there ever was one when Jack was involved. "Either way, the name roughly translates as king of magicians. That's what he claims to be, a powerful wizard, and they think I am one too. They must have had some kind of surveillance in the tower and saw the tricks I showed you. According to Maudnath, if I defeat him in this 'duel of wit and magic' he loses all together. Jack, we have to try!"

His voice turned to a plea, at the same time as his eyes did the puppy dog imitation Jack had never been able to resist. Jack stared into those wide blue eyes, working his jaw without being able to find any adequate words. Letting out a sigh he threw up his hands in mock surrender.

"Fine, let's do it."

Having cleared up their differences the team got busy freshening up. The reception room they stood in was the hub of the suite. It opened up to four bedrooms and a large bath where a huge barrel of steaming water stood waiting for them.

"You go first, Carter," Jack ordered and gave her a nudge towards the tub, before he shooed Daniel and Teal'c out of the room. The clumsy chivalry cracked a smile across her lips as she shed her clothes and climbed into the water. It really was shock hot, and after the prison cell's filthy stone floor the warmth was like balsam to her tense muscles.

While Sam relaxed in the bath, the men explored the bedrooms. Each one held a grand canopy bed and little else in way of furniture. On the beds they found lavish clothes made of deep colored woolen fabrics and silver threaded brocade. Their backpacks had been brought up for them as well, along with every weapon and piece of technology that had been taken from them at their arrest.

Jack dug though his pack and found a clean t-shirt. He placed it on the bed for later, next to the alien clothes. They were a nice gesture, he was sure Daniel would tell him so, but it would take more than some time in jail to make him give up the familiarity of his uniform.

A knock on the open door spun him around to find Sam wrapped in a big wool towel. Her hair stood up in wet spikes and the heat of the water had made her cheeks flush. A runaway drop glistened on her shoulder and made a meandering trail down her bare arm.

_Whoa! _Jack halted his mind before it strayed into court-martiable territory.

"I'll tell Daniel it's his turn," he pressed out, trying his best to ignore the odd tone in his own voice. Before Sam could make any comment he skirted around her and out the door.

Across the reception room he rapped his knuckles on Daniel's door.

"Your turn to bathe," he said before fleeing on to Teal'c's room.

After they all had cleaned up they got dressed and met back in the reception room. Jack had only changed his shirt and given his pants a quick shake before he put them on again. Daniel on the other hand had, just as Jack had expected, gone completely native. He wore some kind of long open brocade robe over a matching set of green wool pants and shirt. It wasn't a bad look, Jack had to admit. Daniel did have a talent for blending in to all the odd civilizations they encountered on their travels.

Teal'c had opted for clothing somewhere in between the two earth-men. Like Jack he had put on his spare t-shirt, but he had replaced the dirty BDU-pants with the brown woolen ones provided by their host. Sam was the last to appear from her bedroom, even though she had been first in the bath. She was dressed like Jack, in a black tee and dusted off BDU-pants.

"They gave me a dress," she said with a crooked smile.


	5. Sleight of Hand - Chapter 5

They met Maudnath again for supper. This time Jack sat down next to her to get some information along with his sustenance.

"I have a few question marks I need straightened out," he said while loading his plate with meat and vegetables. "You're what, the queen of this place?"

She shook her head.

"I am Ionadaí Morrigan."

Jack's eyes slid to Daniel on the other side of the table in an unspoken request for translation.

"Representative, I think, of Morrigan."

"Aha! And… who is Morrigan?"

Maudnath looked a little shocked, but she willingly answered his question. She turned her eyes skyward and spoke with a reverent air, reciting words like a prayer.

"Morrigan is the Phantom Queen, the Lady of the Night. She is the mother, giver of grace and wisdom. She is the crow that flies, the eyes that see and the goddess who protects us."

Jack's eyes had turned warier with every word, and by the end of it his facial expression was on the brink of panic.

"Daniel…?"

The question needed no more than to be implied. Daniel had made the connections just like him, adding in the further knowledge he had about Earth's counterpart to the local culture and religion. He recognized the name Morrigan – he had the first time he heard it.

"I'm afraid so, Jack. There's a good possibility she's a goa'uld. In ancient Irish religion she was regarded as a goddess of battle and wealth, and her name links to a root meaning terror or monstrousness. It's the same root that we have derived our 'nightmare' from."

Jack turned to Muadnath, who had been following their exchange with a puzzled look. At least he was pretty sure by now that _she_ wasn't a snakehead, but that was a meager consolation if there really was one around somewhere just waiting to show itself.

"Does Morrigan come around much?" he asked, faking casualness. "Visit? Drop in unannounced?"

"No. No one has seen our Lady for many generations."

The reply calmed the edginess riding Jack's nerves a bit, but he thought it'd be best to ask a few more questions to be sure.

"What about those jaffa, are those hers?"

"Jaffa?" Maudnath looked blank, uncomprehendning.

"Those big guys you had with you this morning. You know, the guys we kicked the snot out of." Jack spoke with not too subtle satisfaction, but Maudnath let the implied insult pass her by.

"They are the Laochra, the personal guard of the Ionadaí. Morrigan gave them to us to aid us as we serve as enforcers of her law."

"So they've just been here since the last time she visited, many generations ago? And you haven't heard from her in that time?"

"Her servants come to visit us sometimes through the Ciorcal Mór, but as long as the people of Éirinn obey Morrigan's laws she is pleased to watch over us from afar."

Jack looked disbelieving, and a bit angry.

"Obey the laws, huh! And what your enemy is doing, that isn't against the laws?"

A grimace of painful lament contorted Maudnath's features.

"It is a complicated situation. Rídraíodóir has committed no crime against Morrigan's expressed will yet, but we cannot wait until he does. It will be too late." Desperation cracked her voice, and it wasn't hard for Jack or the rest of SG-1 to guess why. Her next words only confirmed their waking suspicions. "If he kills Radha and invades our lands Morrigan will surely intervene, but my sister will still be dead."

Jack could say nothing against that. She was right, and Daniel had been right too. Taking on the magic duel was the best bet to resolve the situation in a peaceful way.

The next few days consisted of febrile activity for SG-1. They made plans and remade them. Daniel racked his memory for the biggest magic tricks he could remember how to perform and tried his best to revamp them to make the biggest possible impact on the local crowd. A messenger was sent out to the Gallchobhair clan to deliver the challenge to Rídraíodóir. The round trip would take him at least four days, said Maudnath. It wasn't exactly plenty of time for preparations, but hopefully it would be enough.


	6. Sleight of Hand - Chapter 6

The big day dawned under a dark sky. Thunder hung in the air like a cliché of anticipation.

Daniel was up before first light, not that it really seemed to want to get light at all. Unwilling to disturb his teammates he took to wandering thought the halls of the keep, watching it wake up and come to life as the morning routines began. There was an electricity in the air that he wasn't entirely sure whether he should ascribe to the storm waiting to happen or the fact that the fates of every man, woman and child in the city would rest in his hands today. Either way it awoke a tingle in his bones that would not let him sleep, or even stay still in one place for much more than a minute.

Strolling down the corridor outside the dining hall he found himself face to face with Maudnath. With a smile she gestured to the big doors and offered to arrange for some breakfast to be prepared. He shook his head.

"I don't think I could eat anything just now."

She nodded, but he wasn't sure she completely understood. It didn't really matter. After all, he was supposed to play the part of a wizard. It didn't do to be nervous about performing his magic.

"I hope all the preparations have been made to your satisfaction?" Maudnath asked.

"Yes, thank you. Everyone has been very helpful."

"And you, Draoídan, are you prepared? Are your friends prepared?"

The tingle in his bones seemed to intensify. _Prepared? I'm not sure I will ever be quite prepared for any of the things I end up doing on this job._

"I'm not sure they are up yet," he said, trying to mask the nervousness mounting inside him. "I should go check on them so we don't get late to the arena."

He fled without waiting for her answer. It was rude, he knew it, but it was the only thing he could think of doing if he wasn't going to give himself away. Besides, he did need to see if the rest of the team was up and ready to play their parts in the duel.

* * *

><p>The arena sat high on the top of a windswept cliff. It looked a lot like an ancient Greek amphitheater, but with clear influences of the Irish culture that seemed to be prevalent here. It was an uncomplicated structure, merely a semicircle of tiered seats around a simple stage, but the location made it spectacular. The gray overcast sky fading into the sea behind the stage formed the most dramatically evocative backdrop imaginable. Down below the waves crashed against the foot of the cliff, sending up white foam to try and reach the gathering spectators above. The incessant roar of it formed a soundtrack of anticipation that slowly but surely wound the tension up and up.<p>

Daniel stood on the stage and watched the audience assemble. The two clans were easily distinguishable, both from the colors they wore and the distance they held to each other. On both sides it seemed that everyone had come out for the occasion. He saw children and elderly mingled among imposing warriors, both men and women carrying swords and longbows.

A hush fell over the crowd. All eyes drew to the opposite side of the stage, and when Daniel looked as well he understood why his opponent had gained his reputation. Rídraíodóir seemed to have appeared out of thin air. One moment he wasn't there, the next he strode onto the stage with his long black cloak billowing behind him in the wind blowing out to the sea. The air about him drew Daniel's thoughts to every goa'uld he had ever met; a quality of arrogance that seemed reserved for megalomaniacs bent on world domination. _I sure hope he isn't a goa'uld._ The thought escaped into his mind before he could stop it. He tried to shake it off by straightening his back and erasing the fear from his face. _He can't be. Besides, if he is it's not the first one I've faced._ His thoughts flickered to Jack's 'pep talk' backstage.

He had been standing by the stairs up to the stage, readjusting the robes lent to him by Muadnath. They were the fitting attire for a draíodóir, she had said. Personally he thought they were quite a bit over the top but if they made him look more the part it couldn't hurt. Also, he didn't want to offend or give away the fact that his magic power was no more than a few clever tricks. Muadnath, and her people, really believed was a magician and for this to work he needed that misconception to continue – no matter how wrong it was to deceive them.

Jack had been sitting on the stairs, looking deceptively relaxed. Anyone who knew him less might have thought he wasn't worried at all, but Daniel recognized the look in his eyes.

"You know, Daniel," he had said, and his voice had been just the sardonic tone underlined with worry that he had expected. "This is either very brave or very stupid."

"I know."

"Which one is it?"

Daniel had turned to him then, a smirk tugging at his lips, and replied,

"Not a clue."

Now, seeing Rídraíodóir for the first time, he was leaning towards stupid. Next to the magician turned conqueror he felt like a schoolboy at a talent show in his daddy's clothes. It would all come down to the best performer, and this guy was sure to put on a good show. Daniel hoped the one he put on would be up to par.

The crowd hurriedly found their seats, anxious to see the duel begin. As the challenged party Rídraíodóir would go first. That suited Daniel fine, as it would give him a chance to see what he was up against.

Rídraíodóir opened with a literal flash and a bang. A dramatic gesture over the fire caused it to erupt into a mountainous green flame. A whoosh of a hundred gasps drawn at the same time went through the audience. Daniel smiled to himself. _Flashpowder with a dash of copper sulfate. _

"Nice," he said, unimpressed. "Simple, but nice."

The magician glared at him with an expression that all but screamed 'let's see you do better'. Daniel nodded graciously.

He reached a hand into the now calmer flames and withdrew a small ball of fire resting in his palm. In reality it was a small cotton ball drenched in kerosene, but the crowd didn't know that and what they thought they saw was all that mattered. Allowing a moment's pause for dramatic effect he leaned forward and blew over his wrist. The breath released a spray of cornstarch that immediately caught flame as it propelled through the flame in his hand and towards the spectators, dissipating just close enough for them to feel the heat on their faces.

Cheers erupted from the Coimeádaí side of the audience. Daniel turned to his opponent and managed to catch a glimpse of uncertainty before the magician regained his composure. It was just a glimpse, but it told Daniel a lot. Obviously Rídraíodóir had underestimated him, and thought him not much of a challenge, but now he had been forced to reevaluate his judgment.

Rídraíodóir immediately responded with his next trick, reaching his arms out to his sides like a cross. The black cloak unfolded behind him and spread like a pair of wings in the wind. The inside of it glistened with reflections from the fire, and Daniel saw it was lined with black feathers. All of a sudden Rídraíodóir began to rise into the air. He hovered for a few seconds before he touched down and received a thunderous ovation from the Gallchobhair.

_He does have a flare for the dramatic_, Daniel had to hand him that. _But I've got a few cards up my sleeve too. _

Daniel – fire writing to reveal Rídraíodóir as angered Morrigan

Daniel adjusted his glasses. It was the predecided sign to Sam, who stepped onto the stage to hand him a plain black box. He held it up to the audience, opened it and showed them it was empty. Then he closed it and held it up towards the sky.

"Morrigan!" he called with a loud voice. "Give us a sign of your will!"

In the same moment a single crow flew overhead, calling out in a hoarse caw. It was a pure fluke, but it lent itself well to his act. He hid a smirk as he lowered the box and popped the lid. With a dramatically slow movement he picked a sheet of paper out of the box, before he handed it back to Sam.

He turned the paper over in his hands, showing the audience and Rídraíodóir that it was blank. A quick flick of his hand produced Jack's Zippo, seemingly out of thin air. He flipped up the lid and lit the lighter. The flame flickered as he held it close to the paper, igniting it at a nearly invisibly marked spot. The fire crept across the paper, drawing letters of ash. When it halted its progress and the glow went out Daniel turned to Rídraíodóir and held the paper up to him.

"Could you read this, please?" he asked, not failing to notice the beginning of awe in the magician's eyes. He masked it well however and accepted the parchment without letting on.

"It says 'Tá mo ghrásta fhág tú, Lonán'."

For a moment Rídraíodóir looked unsure of himself. Then he clenched his jaw and pressed the paper back in Daniel's hand. With the mask of confidence back on his face he strode to the centre of the stage and pulled a long dagger from his belt. He took a wide legged stance and lifted the dagger in a wide arch. A buzz went through the crowd as he tilted his head back and inserted the tip into his mouth.

The dagger slid down his throat inch by inch until the cross guard rested on his lips. He bent at the waist so he could see his audience, and they could see the hilt of the dagger sticking out of his mouth. Then he straightened up and started to slowly pull the dagger out. It went well at first, nice and smooth, but when he had it halfway out something happened.

Daniel saw him wince, and heard the muffled choke of a gag reflex. Rídraíodóir quickly pulled the dagger completely out and plastered on a careless expression. Daniel grinned victoriously, letting him know without a doubt that he had seen the mistake.

It was clear the crowd had seen it too. There was a murmur of skeptical whispers, some even coming from the Gallchobhair side of the audience.

Anger flickered in Rídraíodóir's eyes. Without any further warning he raised the dagger and threw himself towards Daniel. Daniel spun on his heel and scarcely managed to get out of the way. The magician stumbled past him and struggled to keep to his feet, but it didn't take him long to prepare for another attack. With his heart pounding in his throat Daniel took four steps back to the edge of the cliff, and when Rídraíodóir came charging towards him again he jumped – dearly hoping that the rest of his team were ready for the showstopper.


	7. Sleight of Hand - Chapter 7

Daniel fell. Time seemed to slow as the cliff face went past him, turning blurrier by the millisecond. Adrenaline pumped in his veins. His hands scraped against the rough stone, grasping for the rope. Just as he thought he'd fallen too far, they found it and the tunnel vision faded away.

A flutter erupted around him. The flock of crows that were the last spectacular part of his performance had been released from their hidden cage. He ducked his head as wings and beaks and claws rushed around him, and then they were gone.

Above his head Rídraíodóir teetered on the edge. His momentum had almost tipped him over when Daniel jumped out of the way and he was just beginning to regain his balance when the crows swarmed up around him. The flapping wings surrounded him like a tornado of feathers, and he lost the tenuous grip he had on the ground. He swung after the birds, but the movement only further compromised his stability.

Daniel looked up just in time to see him tilt over the edge, and a moment later the man fell past him in a screaming flurry of feathers. The shrill sound came to an abrupt stop when he hit the cliffs below and immediately got carried away by the waves. Above sounds was fading as well, the flapping of wings desperately fleeing from the gathering of humans.

The rope in his hands shifted; a tug that brought his eyes up again. The faces of his friends peeked over the edge above him, smiling as they began to real in the rope.

They brought him up into a small nook at the back of the stage. It was no more than a pocket, but it lead to a hidden passage around the arena. Daniel straightened his clothes as he hurried along it. He used the confused attention towards the cliff as a cover and stepped onto the top bench row. It took a few seconds before anyone noticed him and that was enough to make it seem as if he had appeared out of thin air. It was an uncomplicated trick – the same one that Rídraídóir had employed at the start of their duel. It was however very effective.

Awe went through the crowd like a shockwave, and when he descended towards the stage there were reverent whispers all around him. Hands reached out to touch him. It made him sick.

He hurried the last steps onto the stage and turned to face the crowd. Their eyes shone towards him in a way all too similar to the misconstrued worship he had recently made it his life's work to fight against.

"That's enough!" he yelled in a voice that carried around the arena.

He tore off his splendid robe. The fact that he had agreed to wear it in the first place, to better fit the role of a draíodóir, suddenly felt vain and false.

"I am no more a wizard than Rídraíodóir was." He gestured to the cliff where the man had gone over. "Or Lonán, as was his actual name. It's all tricks and illusions."

There was silence in the arena now and a hint of doubt awakening in some eyes, but most of the crowd didn't seem to understand what he was trying to say. Daniel sought Jack's eyes at the side of the stage. Pleaded for help and saw the colonel battle with a tug-of-war of feelings inside of him. He was a bit impressed that Jack was actually considering his point of view instead of immediately striking it down.

Finally Jack seemed to come to a decision, and he stepped up onto the stage beside Daniel.

"What my good friend here is trying to say," he said to the crowd, "is that you can't let any one man decide over you, and make all your decisions for you. Just because he happens to exhibit some 'magical' powers doesn't automatically make him qualified to lead you unquestioned."

He made quotation marks in the air, probably not considering that the people he spoke to had never seen such a sign or understood what it meant. Daniel understood, and he appreciated the effort. It wasn't exactly what he had been trying to say, but it was on a level of compromise he hadn't really thought his friend capable of.

Furthermore, the colonel's words were getting through to the spectators. The reverent glow directed towards Daniel was fading. Murmurs and movement spread slowly, picking up speed by the second. The Coimeádaí turned to Maudnath for guidance, but the Gallchobhair rapidly became a roar of clashing opinions. A couple of people – one woman and two men – stood up in candidacy to fill the power vacuum left by Rídraíodóir.

The feelings ran hot and suddenly there was the glint of bared steel. Jack picked up on the altered tension in the air like a bug feeling a disturbance in the surface tension of a pond.

"Hey!"

His shout was lost in the commotion. The situation was teetering on the verge of chaos, like the megalomaniac magician had teetered on the edge of the cliff a moment ago. If this tipped over however, it would not be good. There were children in the crowd, innocents. With no further contemplation he swung the rifle from his shoulder and fired it into the air.

The effect was instantaneous. Every head turned to face him with expressions of terrified awe.

"What's wrong with you people?!" he yelled. "That was not a call for anarchy. And who are you guys?"

He pointed at the three contenders for the leadership. They squirmed under his gaze and exchanged looks to try to determine who should go first and answer his question. There was more than a little apprehension in their stances now, and their eyes repeatedly strayed to the rifle in Jack's hand. In the end it was the woman who plucked up the courage to speak.

"I am Naomh. I was Ionadaí Morrigan of the Gallchobhair clan before Rídraíodóir appeared among us."

"And I suppose you think that's a reason for you to get the power again, huh?"

"Jack." Daniel yanked on his elbow with that certain tone in his voice that meant he had an opinion on what Jack was doing. In a low but insistent voice he continued, "If she really used to be Ionadaí it might be a good idea to let her take charge."

Jack swallowed his objections and consigned the floor to the better skilled diplomat. Daniel stepped forward and addressed the Gallchobhair people.

"Do you trust this woman to lead you? Has she been a good leader before?"

Most of the clan members nodded. The two men who had weighed in for the position earlier still looked rather unpleased, but they held their tongues. Daniel turned to Naomh.

"And you, will you lead them fairly and peacefully? Will you put an end to this conflict with the Coimeádaí?"

She drew a deep breath and met his eyes. He saw sincerity in her gaze when she nodded affirmation.

"I will," she said to him before turning to Maudnath. "On behalf of the Gallchobhair clan, I extend our apologies. Your sister will be returned to you promptly. I hope our people can be friends again – two clans united once more under the grace of Morrigan."

Daniel heard Jack draw a breath behind his back, undoubtedly to voice his thoughts on the Morrigan part. He spun around and silenced him with a look before he got started on something that might get them in trouble.

"Really, Daniel?" Jack hissed angrily. "You're gonna let them keep worshipping this More-Igan? That doesn't sound like you?"

Daniel avoided his eyes.

"I don't like it either, but I think we've done enough here for now. At the moment we have a good connection with these people. Maudnath said that if we succeeded in overthrowing Rídraíodóir she would agree to stay in contact and develop a trading relationship. We can work on abolishing their misconceptions on a later date. If we come on too strong about their entire belief and social systems right now we might blow the entire deal."

Jack sighed and made a face.

"I suppose you're right," he said. "Can we get outta here now?"

Daniel looked around. The Gallchobhair clan seemed to be accepting the rule of Naomh, and the Coimeádaí had already started to leave and return to their city. At the edge of the stage stood Maudnath. He caught her eyes and she flashed him a bright smile.

"Soon, Jack. I'm just going to have a few words with Maudnath."

Her smile glowed even brighter as he approached.

"Thank you, Draoídan. You have fulfilled your promise and more besides." She hesitated and her smile was momentarily shaded by a cloud of sadness. "I suppose you will be returning to your own world now."

Daniel nodded.

"We will, but as we discussed earlier, we can come back."

"Until we meet again then, Draoídan. I pray that it will be soon."

She pecked a kiss on his cheek, light as a butterfly, and walked away. Behind his back Jack let out a low whistle, provoking a shade of red to rise on his face. He gave his friend a mock scathing glare.

"Can we get out of here _now_?" Jack asked.

"Yes, Jack, yes, we can leave now."

Jack hooked his arm in Daniel's and together they stepped down from the stage to their waiting teammates.

"By the way, what did that note mean, the one that you had the Rider-dude read?"

"Oh. 'My grace has left you, Lonán'. Maudnath gave me his real name. Thought it might shake him, and sow some doubt among his people about his power."

Jack laughed heartily and slapped Daniel on the shoulder.

"I'd say that worked, alright."

* * *

><p><strong>The End<strong>


End file.
